


Waiting For It All To Begin

by RiverOfFandoms



Series: Andrew 'Pope' Cody [2]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Drama, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Prequel, Protective, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 23:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20348398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverOfFandoms/pseuds/RiverOfFandoms
Summary: This is the prequel to my other Pope/Reader fic 'Locked Inside Me' so I suggest reading 'Locked Inside Me' first! This is a collection of chapters on how you met Pope and how your friendship/relationship developed before the events of 'Locked Inside Me'. You also accidentally go on a job with them, which was fun to write so I hope you enjoy reading. Pretty much set mostly during season one of the show.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will be writing a sequel to 'Locked Inside me' also.

The first time you met Pope, you were out the back of Smurf’s house. It was after a long day of volunteer work, and J needed to get back home on time but you both still had some college information to go through together, so he invited you over. Apparently, something to do with his grandmother, whom you had met briefly. She seemed a daunting and confident woman with her almost white hair and crisp, leather jacket, and you were undecided on whether you admired her or felt intimidated by her.

She had to talk to J privately, so you ushered yourself out the backdoor. You scanned the backyard. The only obvious thing you spotted instantly was a man over by the pile of smashed up bricks. He had noticed your arrival by the sound of the sliding door being opened and closed, but he didn’t bother to tear himself away from his work, so you wandered over by the pool and watched the shimmering water reflect the sunlight.

You’d heard some odd things about the Codys. Nothing super crazy, just odd. Like how all the uncles seemed to lived, together. You’d heard J’s mum had died earlier this year, which was why he was living with his uncles and his grandmother, but you didn’t realise there were so many. Apparently, someone had said, there were four of them. The youngest of them at least 25.

All different dads, too…

“Who are you?” a rough voice asked beside you as if he could hear your judgmental thoughts.

You blinked out of your whirlpool of thought and turned to look at the stranger, the man who had been smashing up the bricks. His eyes were dark and his stance defensive, he didn’t seem alarmed by your presence, but he was confused and maybe curious. He was breathing heavily from the work he’d been doing, and his shirt stuck to his torso as sweat patches poked through the material.

You stuck your hand out to him, out of routine, and said, “Y/N. I’m a friend of J’s.”

He stared at your outstretched hand and then met your eyes again. You lowered your hand with heated cheeks when you realized he wasn’t going to shake it. His face had hard, sharp features and you suddenly wondered if he was capable of showing any emotion at all. You got the feeling he didn’t like you very much.

“Pope,” he said, calmly. He looked past you to see Smurf and J talking inside and then found your eyes again, a cautious stare, “A friend?” he doubted.

You nodded at his question, “Yeah, well, I’m—uh, helping J out.” You swallowed, feeling nervous under his chilling stare, “I’m on break from college, so I applied for the volunteer program at J’s school.”

He blinked, processing your words. He shifted his stance and relaxed his shoulders a little, “Volunteer…” he said, quietly, staring off into the distance momentarily, “Doing what?” he held your stare again as if challenging you.

“Speaking about college, one-on-one mentoring… stuff like that.”

He watched you. He didn’t say anything, and you weren’t sure what it was about the guy that made you feel so curious.

You suddenly felt too self-aware and awkward under his stare, and clumsily asked, “So… you’re one of J’s uncles?” you didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t respond at first, he still kept his distrusting eyes on you in silence. Then he leaned the sledgehammer he held against the remaining brick to rest, “Yeah, I’m his uncle.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, his palms discoloured from sweat and dirt, “You met anyone else?”

You gestured to the house with a nod of your head, “Just Smurf…”

He nodded his head slowly and tightened his lips. He didn’t offer up any more conversation and instead began to walk past you as he flexed his arms, pulling his sweaty shirt over his head. He flung the damp shirt over a pool seat to dry, then he paused and looked over his shoulder to you, “You coming inside or you just gonna stay out here all night?”

You blinked, a little taken aback, and you felt your cheeks go red. Mostly because he was shirtless… and for an older guy, an age you weren’t sure of, he looked pretty damn good. But also, because you weren’t sure if J and his grandmother had finished talking yet, it didn’t seem like it by the way they still looked in deep discussion, but you nodded your head at Pope, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Pope’s eyebrow quivered and he smirked, or at least, he might have, you weren’t sure though because it wasn’t so obvious as he turned his head away again. He quickly slid the backdoor open and you followed closely, shutting it behind you.

Smurf’s eyes landed on Pope and then glanced at you before she straightened herself up from leaning on the table. You couldn’t tell if she was pissed or just dissatisfied, you guessed it must be a thin line between the two. She watched Pope attentively as he wandered into the kitchen, surveilling his every move.

He opened the fridge and eyed the inside.

Smurf turned to you, changing her demeanour to a more positive one, “So, what are you crazy kids gonna get up to?”

J cut in before you could reply, “We’re just studying.”

Smurf raised an eyebrow, “Just studying, huh…” she stared at you with no expression on her face, “Is that true?”

“Somewhat,” you replied, setting your bag down on the table near J. “Just going through some college stuff.”

“College… stuff?” Smurf side-eyed J.

J nodded but he seemed reluctant to tell her, “Yeah, information about it all. Y/N’s a volunteer.”

You smiled at her, though you couldn’t tell if she was pleased or displeased.

“What’s this about college?” A voice asked on your left, as a new person entered the room, who’d come through the front door. He had scraggly blond hair and a scruffy face. A taller, longer and darker-haired man followed. They both looked tired and smelled of the beach with their damp hair and sandy cheeks. The blond guy looked over at J and teased, “You a college kid now, huh?”

J shook his head, “My teacher said it might be a good idea to check it out, I don’t know…” he lowered his head.

“Oh, your _teacher_,” the blond guy responded, almost condescending, now heading over to the fridge to ransack it. Pope had a beer in hand and was leaning against the kitchen counter watching his two brothers with caution.

The taller, darker-haired guy stopped near you before reaching for a beer that his brother passed him and said, “You a college kid?”

You looked at him, amused, “Yeah, I’m a junior.”

He stared at you, an eyebrow slightly cocked, “Junior, huh? That makes you like… what…twenty-one?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and glanced at J, who only looked back with amusement in his green eyes. You smiled briefly at the guy, who must have been another one of J’s uncles, “Twenty, actually, but almost twenty-one.”

“Right…” he said, nodding his head, and didn’t bother to be subtle about checking you out. “I’m Craig,” he finally added, opening his beer and taking a quick mouthful. He gestured to the other guy and swallowed, “That’s Deran.” Deran threw a quick wave as he settled on a piece of fruit as his snack. Craig wet his lips and nodded at you, “What’s your name?” he lifted his beer to his lips in anticipation.

Pope suddenly walked out of the kitchen, closer to the pair of you, and remarked, “Stop drooling over J’s new friend, Craig,” he eyed his brother momentarily, as if warning him off, before pulling out a chair from the dinner table to sit on, opposite to the chair you stood behind.

Craig defensively threw his hands up in the air, “What? I’m not—I’m just being polite.”

You kept your smile hidden from view, “It’s Y/N.”

He smiled smugly at your response, “Y/N,” Craig repeated, edging a little closer to you, “That’s a _real_ nice name.” He glanced at his brother, and you were certain he was only continuing with this act to piss Pope off.

“Craig…” Pope warned, clearly unimpressed, with narrowed eyes and arms crossed.

Smurf wandered back into the kitchen area, noticing the amount of attention you were getting, and laughed, “Oh, Pope, you don’t have to act so jealous of your brother.” She held up a shirt and then said, “And put on a shirt,” then ditched a dark polo-shirt onto his lap.

You raised your eyebrows and glanced at Pope, who was staring back at you. You weren’t sure if his heated cheeks were from embarrassment or anger. He quickly stretched the shirt over his head and put it on while Craig and Deran snuck each other amused glances. J knew to keep his mouth shut.

Pope’s head peeked through the collar, “I’m not _jealous_,” he said with venom, now looking at Smurf, with his shirt fully on, “I’m just helping her out.” He looked back at you, casually, and he shrugged, “Poor girl doesn’t even know us, and she’s already got this jerk checking her out…” he challenged Craig with defiant, dark eyes.

“Yeah, _so_,” Craig snapped, his voice loud, “Is that somehow a crime?”

“Yeah, when it’s harassment…” Pope continued, always knowing how to get his brother riled up.

“Look,” Deran interjected, as an amused Smurf wandered back to her room again, “Both of you guys just chill already.” He looked over at Pope, “It’s not like she’s J’s age, so settle down and stop acting like her _dad_,” he argued. He then directed his next words to Craig, who was looking a little too happy with himself, “And you, you don’t need to make her feel uncomfortable about it, alright? Show some subtlety next time.”

Craig pouted at his little brother’s words, “Yeah, whatever,” he rolled his eyes. He left your side and reached for a slice of something from the fridge.

“What’s all this arguing?” another voice called out, as he entered through the backdoor, “I could hear you lot from the driveway.”

You peered at him, trying to be subtle, he looked well-kept with styled haircut and clothes. He glanced at you briefly but instead shifted his eyes to Pope, expectantly.

Pope just stared blankly at him in response.

“Just Craig and Pope being idiots, is all,” Deran finally said, aiming to dismiss the subject completely. He didn’t want the pair of them to start up again.

You took this moment to sit down in your chair so that you and J could hopefully finish with what you started earlier that day.

“_I _did nothing, it was all Craig,” Pope muttered, quiet and stubborn. You smirked and looked up at Pope, who was already watching you. He seemed amused that you were entertained by all this as his eyes lit up, if only briefly, and you thought he might smile.

“Oh, shut up, Pope,” Craig retaliated, “you’re just annoyed that you were called out by Smurf.”

Pope raised his eyebrows and tore his eyes away from you to look up at his brother, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Craig replied, defensively.

But before Pope could argue back, the uncle you’ve yet to meet properly held his hand up, “Enough, already.” He shook his head at the pair of them, “Couple of children, you are. You’re worse than Lena.” Even though he was scolding them, there was still a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Pope sat back in his chair, defeatedly, his arms resumed their usual position, crossed tightly over his chest, a frown on his face.

“Sorry about them,” the guy said, now looking at you.

You shook your head, “It’s okay, I have siblings too, so I know how it goes…”

He smiled, “Good. Wouldn’t want to scare you off, you a friend of J’s?”

J and you both nodded up at him.

He placed his keys and wallet down on the table, “I’m Baz, J’s uncle.”

“Y/N,” you replied.

He nodded his head again, in thought, and then turned to Pope, “Smurf here?”

Pope nodded his head, still sore about the argument, and gestured to a hallway, “Around here somewhere.”

Baz shook his head at Pope’s pouting and walked by him to find his mom. Craig and Deran both left the room, something about heading off to a party somewhere, and so it was only you, J and Pope sitting around the table.

Pope sat back even further and tilted his head upward, closing his eyes. He seemed tired, probably from all the work he was doing outside in the sun.

You passed one of the last booklets you had to go through with J over the table to him, “We’re almost finished, I swear. They like us to be thorough.”

J chuckled quietly to himself as he flipped the booklet over in his hands, and said, “It’s okay, they’re pretty straightforward.” He started reading through the first page.

Pope glanced down at J and watched him reading, still looking fairly exhausted.

“What were you building?” you asked without thinking. You didn’t really know why you said it, maybe you just didn’t like the silence.

Pope blinked and looked at you, surprised that you spoke to him, he swallowed and shifted in his chair, “A fountain.”

“Just… ‘coz you can?” you asked.

J turned over the next page.

Pope stared at you and then blinked. He was thinking to himself about what the point of you conversing with him was. He often tried to guess what people’s motives were when talking to him because people always wanted something from him. It was a skill he had learned over the many years living in Smurf’s house. But he couldn’t see your motive.

You guessed you asked him the wrong question and glanced away from him, wondering if you really said something wrong or if he just didn’t like you that much. You glanced at J who seemed too engaged in what he was reading to notice the sudden silence.

“Yeah, just ‘coz I can,” he finally replied. Pope relaxed, his shoulders drooping, and you felt a sense of relief from his response. You guessed he didn’t totally hate you, but maybe he just wasn’t good at conversation. “And I needed something to do. Instead of just… sitting around.”

You nodded at his last thought, “Yeah, I get that. When I’m not studying, I’ve got a little too much time on my hands.”

Pope nodded in agreement, or understanding, “So, that’s why you’re helping out J?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

He swallowed and averted his eyes, surprised by your smile at him. He got up from his chair and went to the fridge without a word.

You looked over at J as he placed the booklet down, his eyes alight, “I have some questions.”

You smiled, “That’s what I’m here for.”

You and J talked a little about the campus; you answered whatever questions he had of the place, and Pope peeked around the corner with vague interest. He was making himself a sandwich but somehow, even surprised himself, found your talk of college interesting. J would fit in well at college, with those brains. He was a good student, apparently. Though deep down, he didn’t think J would ever apply because Smurf’s busy getting her claws in too deep.

He finished making his sandwich and grabbed a few beers from the fridge. He rounded the kitchen counter and came back to where you and J were sitting. He placed the three beers down and his sandwich before resuming his seat.

You glanced at the beers, and then looked at J. J took one for himself and opened it with ease before swallowing a mouthful, while he casually flipped through a brochure you procured out of your backpack.

Pope noticed your unsure glance at the drink he got for you. His mouth twisted in amusement, though he was careful to hide it again when you looked up at him. Your eyes were asking permission. He pushed the beer closer to you, “You drink beer?”

You nodded, “Thanks.” You opened it, feeling a little performance anxiety under Pope’s gaze, and sipped at it carefully.

“Your welcome,” he said, taking a mouthful himself.

You passed J an updated course guide after he was finished with the campus information. He perused the science and mathematics courses while occasionally throwing you a few questions or thoughts about the information you’d given him so far.

Pope ate his sandwich in silence. He kept to his chair, he liked the company of you both, even if not for him in the first place.

Smurf came back into the living area and wiped down the kitchen counter, she watched you three curiously. Then she started removing ingredients from the fridge and loaded them onto the counter, “You staying for dinner, baby?”

You didn’t realise Smurf was speaking to you until J and Pope looked at you expectantly. You blinked and turned your head to see Smurf now looking at you, too, a hand on hip with the fridge door still open.

“Oh, me?” you gushed, a little embarrassed, “I mean…” you glanced at J who nodded, “I’d love to if that’s okay.”

“Of course, it is,” Smurf smiled, closing the fridge door. She gathered the ingredients and started chopping up some vegetables.


	2. Chapter 2

The spread put out on the dinner table smelled amazing, by the time you and J came back inside from sitting around the pool, drinking beer and talking. Deran and Craig stopped by again, thinking about joining the family for dinner before hitting up the party they were talking about earlier, and Pope was on and off busy with building his fountain.

You left the others for a quick visit to the bathroom. You remembered J’s vague directions, so you attempted at finding it yourself. You walked down a hallway and passed by a few bedrooms, doors either open fully or only ajar slightly. You paused and looked around, there were a few closed doors, but you couldn’t decide on whether you should just barge on in without knowing if they were really a bathroom.

“You lost?” a voice came from the door beside you, which was open just a bit. You saw Pope, again shirtless, though in the middle of putting a fresh one on. He must have sweat through his other one, again, after working on the brick fountain all afternoon.

You grinned sheepishly, as he adjusted his shirt, now covering him. “Uh… yeah, just a little. I’m looking for a bathroom.”

He opened his door fully, and he leaned against the frame. He searched your eyes and nodded to the door at the end of the hall, “You almost had it right.”

“Thanks,” you said and smiled gratefully at him.

You turned toward the bathroom door, but Pope stopped you by saying, “Hey, wait a minute.”

You paused and looked back at him as he still leaned against his bedroom doorway. He shifted his position only slightly as he thought about the words to say. “I uh…” he started, unsure. His eyes searched yours again and he nervously licked his lips, “I think what you’re doing for J is… is really great.” He averted his stare from you, a little embarrassed.

You tilted your head at him, only slightly, your hand resting on the hallway wall outside his bedroom. You weren’t sure what he meant but you smiled nonetheless, “Happy to help.”

“He’s a smart kid, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, he is. Way smarter than me. If he decides to go to college, he wouldn’t have a hard time fitting in.”

Pope smiled, softly. An emotion you weren’t sure if you’d see cross his face, ever, even though only just meeting him today. He seemed so expressionless that you weren’t sure if he would ever break through it.

His smile turned sad, “He’s like his mom. She always had the brains out of us.”

“Out of us?” you questioned, without thinking. You almost forgot that J’s mom would have been a sibling to Pope.

He blinked, hesitant, forgetting that you wouldn’t know too much about their family. “Yeah, uh, Julia, J’s mom, was my twin sister.” He couldn’t look at you when he said her name, it’d been a while since he talked about her and since her death and J’s involvement in the family, it only got even harder. He wasn’t sure if he liked talking about her to a complete stranger, either, but it didn’t feel that way with you. He couldn’t pinpoint why, even though he only just met you today, there was something about you that strangely comforted him.

You looked at him with a fresh sense of perspective. You didn’t realise Julia was Pope’s twin, but it made so much more sense now. The way J acted around Pope, slightly more closed off. But also, how similar the two of them were; their personality and mannerisms. Pope and J would share more DNA than any of his other uncles.

“Twin…” you repeated, softly, deep in thought. “I, uh…” you started, your sudden nerves confusing Pope, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He swallowed, firmly, nodding his head. “Yeah,” he paused, “me too.” He finally looked up at you again, meeting your eyes, and you saw the intense emotion they held. He stepped closer to you, you could smell his recently showered hair and skin. His lips parted briefly, then his mouth tightened, “Better get to the dinner table…” he finally said, though his voice was suddenly quiet, and his eyes were soft. He didn’t make a move to pass you, he just kept his position, close.

You looked into his eyes, trying to figure him out. But it was no use, Pope was a Cody, and Codys mastered hiding their intentions. And Pope, by far, was the best at it when he wanted to be.

You glanced at his lips. It was only a single moment of thought, that for some reason, you couldn’t help. And when you realized what you did, you quickly glanced away from him to stare at the closed bathroom door at the end of the hall. You felt your cheeks redden with heat and embarrassment and you couldn’t look him in the eyes, your heart racing. “Yeah,” you started in response, dry mouth, “I’ll see you back there.” You urged yourself to glance at him, and saw a curious look in his eyes, and then fled the hallway to hide in the bathroom.

Pope stared after you, in wonder, though you didn’t notice since you closed the door behind you without a moment’s hesitation. He found himself to be strangely curious of you. He didn’t quite understand it yet. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fully grown. It was only the beginning, but he felt it there, somewhere. Though he knew he shouldn’t because you were only young, and J’s friend. But he felt a desire to keep seeing you; he didn’t want your visit here today to be the first and last time he spent time around you. He frowned, his eyebrows creased unevenly, this feeling scared him, just a little.

He blinked and shook his head, shook the crazy thoughts away like he always does, and then reluctantly made his way over to the dinner table.

Dinner was nice. Their family, though obviously unique and different from what you know, still had a hearty meal together with the occasional quick-witted quip thrown in amongst conversation about their week. You thought it was nice that J’s uncles spent dinner with their mom. And that Baz brought over his daughter, Lena, who you got to meet also. You didn’t get to meet his wife and Lena’s mom, though, as Baz said something about her having to work tonight.

Deran and Craig, now fully dressed and less sandy than before were talking about the surf, with Baz, who complained that he didn’t get to surf as much anymore, and you were talking with J. Lena had already asked to leave the dinner table to go watch cartoons, probably uninterested in “boring grown-up talk”.

“So,” Smurf started, looking at you with her inquisitive eyes from across the table, “How long will you be around with J for?” her tone of voice was kind, but she was mostly curious about you.

You paused, setting your glass of water back down on the table, “Well… today was the last day, actually. The program only went for like… a week, most volunteers get around to at least three individual students, and J was the last one for me.” You wiped the water from your upper lip with your sleeve.

She nodded, slowly, “So, you go back to college?”

You shook your head, “Not yet,” you swallowed, “still got some time.” Your fingers found the tablecloth edge as you fidgeted nervously. You felt J’s hard stare on your hands.

Smurf didn’t like small talk, but she wanted to know how close you and J were if there was anything she should be concerned about. Anyone even remotely near the family was a threat unless Smurf knew she had the upper hand. “You don’t have to pack?”

“No, I don’t live on campus. I rent a place not far from it, actually.”

“Oh,” she remarked, nodding, “So you’re local?”

“Yeah. I grew up around here, so I decided to go to college here, too.” You smiled a little, “Not really a fan of moving around a lot…” you breathed.

She looked amused, nodding her head, she pointed carelessly to Pope who sat beside her and directly across from you, “Pope’s not a fan, either. He hated moving houses when he was a kid. Always cried and made a fuss of it.”

Pope childishly rolled his eyes at her involvement of him into the conversation.

“So, what are you gonna do with the rest of your time?” she continued, seemingly pleased with Pope’s annoyance.

You shrugged, “I’m not sure. Volunteering was the only stable plan I had…” you glanced at Pope, who was looking at you from across the table, and then you finished, “but I’m sure I’ll think of something to do.”

Smurf seemed happy with your answer, so she moved to get up, “I’m gonna finish getting dessert ready, J, can you give me a hand with serving it up?”

J nodded and also got up from his seat and followed her into the kitchen area. You watched him as he moved and tried to ignore Pope’s stare since you could feel his eyes on you, but you were still embarrassed from before. You tried not to visibly cringe as you sat there, replaying it in your head.

“You okay?” he asked, quietly, sensing your sudden discomfort. The other three boys were still talking quite animatedly about their day, too involved to hear Pope speak to you.

You forced yourself to make eye contact, his dark eyes bore into yours, “Yeah.”

He tilted his head at you in doubt.

You looked at your hands. Then, you sighed, your eyes closed briefly before re-opening them, “It’s nothing.”

He nodded, slowly, accepting your resistance but not satisfied with your answer. He leaned back in his chair but kept his eyes on you. You stared at each other in the challenging, thick silence.

“You surf?”

You broke from the tension and turned to the question directed at you, Baz had asked it, and you shook your head in response, “Not really.”

He put his beer down, his eyebrows raised, “You grew up here, but you don’t surf?”

Deran shook his head, “That’s practically criminal…”

You twisted your mouth in amusement, “My dad was the surfer, not me. I never really took to it.”

“Your dad still surf?” Craig asked, his blue eyes alight, “Maybe we’ve seen him out there,” he glanced to his brothers.

The answer to that was hard. You hated it. But it always managed to come up in conversation, somehow. Maybe, subconsciously, you willed it without even trying. You swallowed, and shook your head, “No… no, he’s—he’s not around anymore.” You glanced at your hands still resting on the table. You never knew how you were supposed to act when talking about your dead dad.

You noticed Pope looking at you in some kind of understanding, but it seemed that way with most of them. They understood what it was like to not have a father-child relationship.

You looked up at the brothers again, eager to not linger on the grief of it all, “But, he –uh, he taught me, a little. When I was a kid,” you smiled at the memory, “but I never really stayed up long enough on the board,” you mused, feeling comfortable enough to share something so intimate with a bunch of almost strangers.

They looked like they understood with their all-knowing eyes. Deran went to say something else but a sudden screech of tires and shouts ensued out the front of the house, interrupting him.

A sudden cloud of concern washed the table of Codys. As if by routine, Baz immediately got up from his chair to check the security footage in the kitchen. You watched as the others looked to Baz for some sort of confirmation. He couldn’t see anything through the cameras, but you saw his hand reach, for what looked like, a gun, stuffed in the back of his jeans. Everyone jumped up from their seats.

With eyes wide, you stood up from your chair and watched them all head for the front door. You manoeuvred around the table to follow but Pope caught onto your alarm and stood in front of you, blocking you off from following, “Stay inside.”

“But—” you countered, still very aware of the gun that Baz pulled from his jeans.

Pope warned you with dark eyes, “Let us handle it, okay?” he left a lingering look to ward you off from leaving the house, then he followed his brothers out the front door.

You looked to the screens that were hooked up to security cameras. You watched as the five figures edged closer to the gate and yelled something over it but there was no response. Most of them held guns at the ready, everybody except J, you’d never seen so many guns before.

They filtered through the gate with caution and J stayed behind. You couldn’t see what the others were doing since they passed the camera’s visual limit. You glanced at Smurf who stood beside you, still wide-eyed and alarmed. She didn’t seem too upset but she was definitely on edge.

She noticed you looking to her and read it as asking for reassurance, and so she said, “It’s okay, the boys can handle it.”

“But…” you said, anxiously, “what’s going on?”

Smurf stared at you. She tightened her lips as she thought, momentarily, then she decided to just bite the bullet, “Sometimes… people around here want to hurt us.” She swallowed, carefully choosing her words, “We protect ourselves, always have and always will. This could be one of those times.”

You watched her as she walked to the backdoor and peered out through the glass, the pool water shimmered with the outside light’s reflection.

You kept your mouth shut after her last remark. You didn’t know the Codys well, you only met them today, so whatever you might have to say wouldn’t matter one bit. It was their house, their family and their rules. You knew you’d just have to sit tight and keep quiet about it.

Smurf noticed your silence and thought you were smart for not questioning it further, you were smarter than you looked. She noticed someone moving closer to the security camera, it was J, and he was waving at you both on the screen, asking you to come out the front. Smurf gestured for you to follow her as she led you through the house and out the front door, to where J stood, patiently waiting.

He looked anxious and his forehead shined with sweat.

“What is it?” Smurf asked, quickly, scanning the darkened street.

“Y/N’s car,” he said, softly, and glanced at you.

You frowned, mostly out of confusion but the alarm was still in your system, “What?”

“Did you get her?” Pope asked, out of breath, as he came in through the front gate. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed your presence and got the answer to his question. He was breathing hard, his eyes flickering from Smurf to you.

Smurf looked at you, curiously, you could feel her eyes watch you as you neared Pope.

You were confused, but when you passed through the open gate, you saw Deran’s phone-light flashing over the tires of your car. They were slashed. You ran up to your car in a panicked response, your eyes narrowed, and your heartbeat fast. You looked up at Baz who came off the street, now by your side, “What… what the fuck?” you questioned, in shock.

He looked just as pissed off and he glanced to his brother. Pope caught his stare and then said, “You don’t have… any enemies in this neighborhood, do you?”

You shook your head aggressively, “No!” You stared down at your car, luckily it was only the tires that were slashed, and the back window smashed. The front windshield seemed perfectly okay and there weren’t any other surprises waiting for you inside the car. But the damage was still hefty, and you had no clue why it had even happened at all. You looked over at them, your question aimed at no one in particular, “Did you see who did it?”

Baz shook his head. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were on your tires, “We saw one guy run down the street and we ran after them, but he got into a van and they took off. They’ll probably change the plates or ditch the car if they're smart.” He looked to you, suddenly, “We’ll sort it out, don’t worry.” He turned to go speak with Smurf about the incident, she didn’t walk the rest of the driveway so he met her up closer to the house.

You looked at Pope in uncertainty, and his arms were also crossed over his chest. Craig walked by wordlessly and Deran mumbled something to his brother as he followed. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. You couldn’t process it, why would someone trash your car like this?

Pope watched you in silence, waiting for you to freak out, he was good at damage control though he knew Baz was much better at it. But Baz seemed pretty concerned that someone attacked your car. And frankly, Pope was concerned, too. He finally spoke, “Are you _sure _no one would do this? Ex-boyfriend?” he hesitated to add, “Girlfriend?”

You sighed, pissed. You shook your head, “There’s no one. My last ex shipped himself off to Australia. And I don’t date crazy people.” You found his eyes, after staring at the wide slashes in your tires, “_And_ I don’t date girls.”

He nodded, firmly, and turned to look at Smurf, who still spoke heatedly with Baz. He cleared his throat, “If I knew you parked your car out here… I would have done something about it, earlier.”

You didn’t reply but instead followed Pope as he walked up to the rest of them, back inside the gate on the driveway. They didn’t seem to be as pissed off, but Smurf looked at you with distrusting eyes. Her arms were crossed, an anger-management trait that must run in the family.

“I’m…” you started, the boys looking at you as you spoke, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

Smurf cut you off, “It’s not your fault, baby.” She looked past you with fiery eyes still, “Some _asshole_ thought he could get back at us.”

“What… what do you mean?”

Baz interjected, his voice strangely steady, “Not a lot of people like us around here.” He, for obvious reasons, didn’t go into much detail as of why. “We… we have a gate with security for a reason. Probably shouldn’t have left your car outside.”

“I’m sorry…” you started, mostly confused but still alarmed, “I—”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Baz said, calmly, “just… next time, you’ll probably wanna make use of the driveway.”

You nodded.

“C’mon,” Smurf cooed, gathering her boys in like a hen would with its chicks, “let’s not ruin tonight’s nice dinner. I’ve still got pie and ice cream for dessert.” She looked to you, and smiled, and then led the way back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Pope glanced at you before following the others, and you hurried after him, eager to get back inside after the shock from the unexpected damage to your car. You greeted the warmth of their home, gratefully, and followed the others as they grabbed plates of dessert.

J passed a plate of pie and ice cream to you, and you accepted it eagerly. You leaned against the dining room table as you ate. Everyone was still on their toes over the excitement from before, so no one took a seat again to eat dessert. Pope stood beside you.

“Y/N,” Smurf suddenly said, as you swallowed the first mouthful of the dessert pie. She pressed her lips together and watched you in momentary silence before continuing, “We’ll deal with it. The car and those people, in our own way.” She awaited a response that you weren’t sure you could give.

“You mean…” you swallowed, “No police?” you asked, carefully, like treading over thin ice.

She nodded her head, and reiterated, “No police.”

You couldn’t say you were entirely shocked by her request. You knew the moment you saw Baz reach for his gun, and the others, that this wasn’t a totally normal family. Hell, you knew the minute you met them all. To them, though, it must just be another Friday night.

“No problem,” you agreed, soft and uncertain but no dishonesty in your eyes.

She nodded her head again and reached for the dirty dishes in silence, knowing you were too smart to lie.

“I’ll drive you home,” Pope suddenly said as he left your side to stack his plate on top of the others as soon as he had finished eating.

You swallowed your last mouthful of dessert and nodded at him, not having much of a choice.

“Or you could hop on the back of J’s bike,” Deran joked and sniggered.

J only sighed, shaking his head, “Won’t be long before I get a car,” he looked at you and nodded, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you said to him and then spoke to Smurf as you placed your dish with the others, “thanks for feeding me, it was really good, and it was nice meeting you all.”

Smurf smiled, “Goodnight, I hope we see you again soon.”

You weren’t sure if she really meant that, especially after all the commotion you caused. You nodded again and waved at the lot of them before disappearing down the hall towards the front entry, following Pope.

He led you to his car, unlocking it with a click of a button.

You stared hopelessly at your car as Pope pulled out of the driveway. You were sitting shotgun, your bag by your feet. You stared at the shattered glass that sprayed over the sidewalk and road and immediately felt guilt sink in.

“Pope—” you started, as he passed your car and drove down the street, “I’m really sorry about what happened with the car… I didn’t…” you sighed, “I didn’t want to cause any trouble...”

“It’s alright,” Pope reassured, his voice rough. He was turning the wheel as he rounded a corner, “You didn’t do anything. It was those idiots’ faults for thinking they could get back at us.”

It still didn’t sit right with you, “I could have not left my car on the side of the road…”

“But you didn’t know ‘coz no one told you.”

You sighed and sat back in your seat, defeated. Houses passed by on your side and you stared out the window in silence. You couldn’t stop thinking about your damn car and it only made you frustrated. You were grateful that Smurf offered to take care of the car but how could you let them? Who knows what the damage would cost? And you haven’t even known them for 24 hours.

You opened your mouth to argue with the guy, but he cut you short, anticipating your next move, and he warned you, “Don’t.”

You looked at him, dumbfounded that he predicted your next panicked outburst and you shook your head instead, leaning against your hand, your elbow propped on the windowsill; you pouted.

“Get your phone out.”

“What?” you questioned, frowning.

He sighed and the car paused at a red light, “Get your phone out so you can save my number,” he practically ordered, a minimal amount of emotion in his tone of voice.

You raised your eyebrows at his directness and clumsily took your phone out from your jacket pocket. You unlocked it with ease and navigated to your contacts, “Why do I need your number?” it was a failed grab at being somewhat cheeky with him.

He put his foot on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward, and you passed through the intersection. He kept his eyes on the road and suddenly felt defensive at your question, “Because, how else am I going to contact you when your car’s fixed?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “J?” You looked at him as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

His fingers clenched the wheel; he hadn’t thought about that. The street became darker as he turned off the main road, “Just save my number anyway, in case.”

You hid your amused grin from him, and created a new contact under his name, “Okay, what’s your—”

Pope stopped the car all of a sudden and you lurched in your seat, saved by the seatbelt. You saw his eyes looking intense and staring out the windshield, “No fucking way,” he breathed.

You followed his gaze into the night air and saw a van parked a few feet away. It wasn’t turned off though as the brake lights were still on, evident by the red, glowing squares, and the one guy getting out the passenger side.

Pope put the car into park, not even bothering to actually pull up beside the curb, though there weren’t any other cars coming down the street. You watched as he angrily unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the car. The headlights from Pope’s car poured out onto the road and the van. You watched as he approached the guy who just got out of the van.

You couldn’t hear what was said, and frankly, didn’t care, once Pope slammed the guy in the face with his fist. The guy tottered and stumbled but came back with a swing. It missed and Pope took the guy out with another punch to the jaw.

The driver jumped out of his seat from all the commotion and came around the side of the van. Pope took a punch from the first guy but came back even stronger.

You saw something silver glisten in the moonlight, the driver was holding it in his hand. You panicked and reached for the horn, beeping it at long length so that Pope turned to the noise. He spotted the driver, and what was, fortunately, only a knife and not a gun. But you were still panicked over the weapon, and on the edge of your seat.

Pope leapt at the guy and disarmed him quicker than you expected, though he got a couple of hits to his cheek and lip. Then Pope delivered several punches to the driver’s face and gut before the driver stumbled away and fell onto his knees, clutching his stomach.

Pope turned around and knocked the other guy in a couple more times before he was satisfied. He spat blood at the pair of them and picked up the knife that he had tossed, stuffing it into his pocket. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out his mobile. You heard him say something like, “I found ‘em, come and get ‘em” before looking around briefly and reciting the address. He hung up the phone and headed towards the car.

You watched with wide eyes and he opened the car door and looked at you, his cheek red from impact and a little blood staining his top lip. He ignored your alarmed stare and slid into the driver’s seat without much explanation of what just happened.

You sat there and he sat there, both in silence, neither knowing what the hell to say.

“Look—” he started.

“What the hell?” you finished, cutting him off in the process.

He stared at you with steady breathing, in and out. An arm lay on top of the steering wheel, “Those were the guys.”

You frowned, you had an inkling about what he meant but for clarification, you asked, “The guys?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “the guys who trashed your car.”

You raised your eyebrows and glanced at the fallen men, lying on the asphalt, groaning or otherwise, unconscious. “Oh,” you finally said. You definitely didn’t recognize them, so Smurf and Baz were probably correct in their assumption that these guys were after the Codys and not you. “Who did you call?”

“Baz.”

You nodded and remembered that they dealt with things on their own.

He carefully procured the knife out from his pocket and placed it in the cupholder, “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way, that could have gone badly,” he said, calmly. 

You stared at the knife, “No problem.” You felt your heart still thumping excitedly in your chest and swallowed against the anxiety. Your mouth still felt dry and you refused to look at Pope, though you could feel his eyes on you.

“You okay?” he asked, cautiously.

“I mean…” you started, shrugging, lost for words. You glanced up at him, finally.

He sighed the kind of sigh that showed he was uncertain, that you could pose some kind of issue for him, an issue that he didn’t want to have to deal with.

“I just mean…” you paused, catching his eyes, “I’m a bit… surprised, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow.

You bit your lip, “Not really, I guess, I mean, you _were _aggressively smashing up bricks in the backyard when we met… so I shouldn’t really be all that surprised.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

You tilted your head at him, annoyed, and realized he was weirdly amused.

You saw headlights from behind and watched as the car pulled up behind Pope’s but besides the curb. Pope didn’t seem alarmed by whoever it was, so you guessed that it was Baz.

Baz and Smurf jumped out from the front seats and wandered to the scene, first stopping by Pope’s window, which he had promptly rolled down.

“Good job, Pope,” Smurf said as Baz neared the guys. She made eye contact with you, but it was brief. “We’ll deal with it from here, go on ahead and drop Y/N home, she’s probably tired.”

You nodded at Smurf as a goodbye before Pope rolled up his window again, silence communicating his agreement.

He shifted the car from park to drive and passed the pair of Codys. You watched them prod at the men until you couldn’t see them any longer when they faded into the darkness behind you.

“Look,” you started after a few minutes of silence, “I’m not gonna go off and tell anyone about… that.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m serious. I get… I get that you guys don’t want that.”

He nodded, his grip firm on the steering wheel, “Alright.”

Silence.

You squirmed in your seat. It was uncomfortable and you hated it. You noticed that you were near your house and in a couple of minutes, Pope parked right out front of your small, one-bedroom place. It wasn’t on the beach because only millionaires could rent out those places. Or criminals. But it was close.

“So…” you said, daringly, as Pope kept the car running, “I can… I can call you if I need?” you didn’t want to leave things on a sour note. You wanted there to be a reason to keep seeing J and… and the others.

He looked taken aback by this, but it was brief. He relaxed his shoulders, “What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you up on your ‘just in case’ reasoning for giving me your number,” you frowned, “except, you haven’t given it to me yet.”

He took out his phone, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, which you could spot even in the darkness, though very small. It was his fashion. “Here,” he said, nonchalantly, and passed you his phone so you could copy the number into yours.

You smiled, “Thanks.” You gave his phone back and then continued, “And thanks for dropping me off.”

He nodded and you climbed out of the front seat and closed the door. You headed to your house and entered through the front door, and you heard a slight screech as his tires fled the curb. You locked up and made your way into your room, dumping your things by your bed.

You texted his number

**You:** Just in case?

Time passed and there was no reply, though you were holding out on the fact that he was probably just too busy driving and not being illegal. And then you got a notification on your lock screen.

**Pope:** Just in case.

You smiled at your phone and called it a night, the intrigue of tonight heavy on your heart.


	4. Chapter 4

It was late sunny morning when you were at work. You were able to finally land a job that didn’t mind your weird availability, due to college starting up again soon, and it wasn’t a lot of effort. Most days, you would be cashier, but other days you would be busy loading and unloading stock. It was a smaller business so there was only one cash register available, though you weren’t left alone to supervise the store. You only met one other coworker, besides the manager of course, and usually worked with him.

It’d been a somewhat stressful week but being able to let loose with J every now and then helped. You never expected to actually become friends with the guy. You were also getting along with Nicky, too, when she wasn’t hurtling insults from jealousy out of your friendship with J. You kept reminding her though that you weren’t interested because to be frank, you weren’t. He was an attractive guy, but you were never captured by him in that way, and you would never fool around with someone in a relationship.

You scanned the shop; it was a small gas station, so it wasn’t usually that busy. You’d get the occasional wave of people flood in every now and then, and then some would dribble in in-between. Some of those people were kids just looking for a sugary snack before they get up to more mischief. You had to keep an eye out for shoplifters, service stations were easily robbed, or so your manager had warned you.

He was an odd guy and sometimes very cautious of others. You guessed he had some unresolved people issues, which was probably why he was a gas station manager at thirty-years-old. Or so you liked to assume, anyway.

You remembered back to his explanation of the panic button. You were to press it as soon as you saw the first real signs of an emergency. It would automatically call the police and they would send a patrolling car over to check on the store. Pretty simple. You seriously wondered how many times this guy had been robbed for him to install one of those for such a small business. But then you remembered back to his explanation of the security cameras in the back room, where the safe was kept. You weren’t technically allowed back there but you still knew where the key was to access it, in case of an emergency, or however he had put it.

There was another smaller room for when you went on break next to it, but it had no security cameras. In fact, the whole of the store had none, just the back room. You thought it odd but chalked it up to not enough budget for ramped up security. And if any room were to have security cameras, it would be where all the money was kept, especially since there was a back door leading out the back of the store (but was always deadlocked).

You often thought about what you would do if some serious criminals came to rob the joint. It was usually just fantasied out of boredom. To be honest, you’d have no idea how you would react. Except for pressing the panic button and knowing to hand over any cash without question, if they’re armed which they usually would be, you have no idea what you else you would do.

It didn’t really matter though, because who would want to rob a random gas station, like this? There would virtually be no point.

You leaned against the counter, thinking about taking your break soon, but realized that Blake was still on his. You glanced at the clock on the screen hooked up to the register and sighed audibly, he still had fifteen minutes. Your stomach rumbled in response, and you sighed again.

There were only a few customers in the aisles when another _ring _of the small door-chime sounded again. Two men walked in. You didn’t bother staring at them for long though, because you were too busy watching the time count down until you could go on break.

But the flash of long blond hair caught your eye and the other man’s dark eyes confirmed your suspicion. They had passed the counter and one stopped, surprised. It was Pope.

He blinked but tamed his emotional reaction quickly, trying not to arouse any suspicion from you. He stared at you as thoughts jumbled into a long string of nonsensical information. What the fuck was he supposed to do now, he thought, trying desperately to think straight.

“Pope,” you said, surprised by his appearance at the store but still happy to see a familiar face. You smiled, “What’cha doing here?” It’d been some time since the first night you met the Codys, and you and Pope were on pretty good terms. Good terms for him, anyway, which often meant sitting in silence; just enjoying the other’s company.

Deran turned at the sound of your voice and his eyes widened in alarm but only briefly. He glanced at his brother and then back to you. Pope responded, vaguely, by admitting to a last-minute tank-fill-up and looking for some snacks for Lena. His voice was careful and quiet, and his eyes trained on yours a little _too _hard. You noticed the tension in his shoulders and a nervous Deran glancing around the place.

“Okay,” you replied coolly, “maybe I can get you a discount. Also, we got the new _Cadbury _chocolate block in today so you should definitely check it out. Unless Lena is super specific about her TV snacks,” you added, humorously, but Pope only nodded still in vague response.

You swallowed, nervously, somewhat used to Pope’s reluctance and restraint, but usually, you understood the cause of it. Like when he snapped at you or was extra quiet, it was usually because Smurf had riled him earlier. But now, you weren’t sure, and if he had been spending time with Lena all day, it would be unlikely that he had been around Smurf long enough to cause this kind of behavior from him. The only other times he showed stress like this was just before one of their… “jobs”, though what they entailed; you didn’t really know. They wouldn’t ever speak about it much around you.

You noticed Deran leaving the store. You shifted your attention to Pope again, who was now inspecting the chocolate aisle. His hands deep into his jean pockets and an occasional glance at the store’s entry.

You breathed carefully and calmly, having wild thoughts about what the Codys really do, and you suddenly realized what might actually be happening.

***

J watched as Deran and Pope went into the gas station. Craig was a few blocks away waiting for the signal to come and collect Deran and Pope with the safe, and Baz was with J; readying the delivery truck to barricade the shop doors.

It was supposed to be quite simple: Deran and Pope would infiltrate the back room of the store where the safe was known to be kept, according to Deran’s recent scope of the place. Baz and J would drive the truck into an oncoming car – aiming somewhat for the freezer box by the front door of the gas station so that the truck would act as a barricade to the police who may be quick to show as soon as Pope and Deran kick off their hostage plan inside. With that on the way, Pope and Deran would persuade the cashier to unlock the two back doors. Then they would load the safe into Craig’s car and Baz and J would take their car (parked around the corner) and meet up with the others to unlock the safe, leaving the truck without any DNA at the scene for the police to deal with, since there was no connection between them and the vehicle.

But before Baz could kickstart the truck and get into position, J spotted Deran leaving the store.

J frowned and watched as he crossed the road to where they were parked. He couldn’t see Pope following and wondered what the hell had happened to make Deran leave the store without him.

Baz spotted Deran too and jumped out of the front seat of the truck. Deran met them behind the truck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Baz quickly asked, a threatening edge to his voice. He glanced over at the store but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Fucking—” Deran started, “Y/N,” his voice was clogged with nerves. He narrowed his eyes at J, “Why the fuck didn’t you say that she worked here?”

“_What?_” J asked in disbelief. He glanced at the store and then shifted his gaze to Deran again, “I didn’t know!”

“You don’t know where she _works_?”

J ran a nervous hand through his hair, “I didn’t… no, I didn’t know where she worked. I didn’t even know she got a job.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Deran said, shaking his head. “Pope’s in there right now _talking _to her, what the fuck do we do, man?” he asked Baz, urgency straining his voice.

Baz shook his head, his hands on his hips, “You know, _you_ fucking cased the joint… you didn’t see—”

“I didn’t see her!” Deran argued.

J interrupted, quickly, before the two brothers wasted more time arguing, “She was over at the house, yesterday. She probably didn’t have a shift.”

Baz looked between the two of them, thinking carefully.

“We should drop it. Do it another time when we know for sure that Y/N isn’t working,” Deran proposed.

“If we don’t do it today, the safe will be unloaded into his account,” Baz argued with a sense of authority.

Deran shook his head, with widened eyes he countered, “You can’t seriously be considering still going through with this! She _saw _us, man!” Deran lifted his hands on top of his head, still shaking his head at Baz.

“Why can’t we wait until next month, the same amount of money should be in that safe again, right?” J said, quietly, not wanting you to be involved in what they were about to do.

“No,” Baz said, “No, we don’t know that. He might get less. His work isn’t stable, it’s a drug trade so it’s unreliable. And if we have to keep waiting ‘til he gets anything at all, we might be waiting _months_. We need to hit him now, while we know that there’s money worth stealing.”

“No fucking way, Baz, no _fucking_ way!” Deran shouted, hitting the side of the truck with his hand, “It’s too much of a risk. She’ll _know!_”

“She won’t know if we do this properly,” Baz said, strangely calm. He breathed out through his nose, “Same plan.”

“_Same plan?_”

“Same plan,” Baz swallowed. “But instead of you as hostage Deran, it’ll be Pope.”

Deran frowned, “Why—”

“Pope will be held hostage instead,” Baz stated, swallowing quickly, “And J will attack. And you’ll be with me.”

Deran dropped his hands by his sides, staring at his older brother in pure disbelief. This would be a huge mistake and Pope was _not _gonna be happy.

J looked at Baz incredulously and felt a wave of terror wash over him, but also, somehow, excitement. But was he ready to do something like this? Could he do it, knowing that it was you he was threatening? He shook his head, “She’ll know it’s me…”

“Not if you lower your voice, speak minimally…” he replied, “we can’t send Deran back inside now. Even with the mask on, she’ll recognize the clothing. She hasn’t seen you yet.”

J swallowed his nerves and looked to Deran, who, although, was still in shock that they were even going to put the job in motion, understood what Baz meant. Deran took in a breath, “Fuck. Okay, okay,” he said, biting down on his lip, “He’s right,” he nodded, “Baz is right, she’ll recognize my clothing. You’ve gotta do it.”

“I…” J wanted to argue, he wanted to say that he couldn’t possibly do what they wanted him to, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. There would be no point in arguing. Baz’s mind was set, and the decision was made, now he only needed to not fuck it up. He nodded, “Alright,” he took the mask and gun from Deran who offered it up to him, “Alright, I’ll fucking do it.”

J left the two of them by the truck and crossed the road towards the gas station. He could feel the sweat on his palms and the gun in the back of his pants suddenly felt bigger than it really was. He glanced over his shoulder and saw them readying the truck to slam into the front of the store.

He paused in front of the store’s entryway and tried to breathe deeply, even for just a couple of seconds, before he put on the mask.

He ignored the ringing chime from the bell on the door and scanned the place. The mask covered most of his face, except his eyes, but at least he was able to see properly. He wasn’t ever even supposed to be in the store, let alone act as the attacker in their planned hostage stitch.

He clumsily reached for the gun and raised it as he walked in further into the store. He shouted, “Everybody, get the fuck _down_ onto the ground! Now!” his voice low and rough, his eyes caught onto yours –and you looked terrified.

Pope frowned and stared at J in disbelief. He dropped to the ground, like the other customers, but couldn’t quite understand what he was supposed to do. They obviously changed the plan without telling him. Hell, he was surprised that Baz still wanted to go through with it.

J walked up to Pope and yanked him up by pulling his arm. Pope pretended to be worried and reluctant. J dragged him over to the counter where you crouched, having already pressed the panic button as soon as J had shouted.

“Get up,” J ordered, peering over the counter. His grip on Pope’s arm was tight and Pope only just realized that it was J under the mask and not Deran. He clenched his jaw and refrained from shaking his head, knowing all too well that once this was all over, he was going to let Baz have it.

You stood, trembling, and watched Pope’s eyes. You looked at the masked man and didn’t recognize him, you were so scared that you barely looked at him. You only caught his eyes for a millisecond before remembering that you shouldn’t stare the offender in the eye, or they might shoot.

“Just look at me,” Pope said quietly, suddenly feeling for you. He hoped that he could calm you down just enough so you wouldn’t be completely scarred for life. He could see the fear in your eyes, “Just look at me,” he repeated.

“Shut the fuck up,” J growled and shook Pope. He pointed the gun at you with hesitation that he hoped you didn’t notice. You weren’t looking him in the eyes so that was a good start, you’d probably recognize his eyes immediately.

“Give me the keys to the back,” J started, switching the gun’s position so that the head of it was pressed against his uncle’s temple, “or he gets it.”

You swallowed nervously and reached for the keys when you heard a loud crash right out the front of the store and a sound that resembled glass shattering. The few customers that lay face-down on the floor screamed in shock and car alarms filled the silence in-between. You were breathing harshly, your chest tight with anxiety.

“Shut up!” J shouted in response to the screams. He glanced outside and knew he only had a matter of minutes to get the rest of the job done. He hoped it would be fucking worth it. He nudged the gun into Pope’s temple again, “Keys! _Now!_”

You silently reached for them under the counter and brought them out. Your hands shaking so hard that the metal rattled against each other, clinking with your nerves.

J nudged Pope again and Pope reached out his hand toward you. You dropped the keys into his palm, your eyes still on his, and he swallowed. He saw your hands shake. He was going to _kill_ Baz for this.

J shoved the gun back into your face and you screamed. You knew it wasn’t Deran, you knew that as soon as he threatened you the first time because the masked guy wasn’t wearing the same clothing. If this was still one of their jobs, they were doing a good fucking job at it. You were fucking scared as all hell.

You stared at the gun held to your face. The closest you’ve ever been to a gun before. And it was pointed right between your eyes. You felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to hold yourself up against all odds by leaning onto the counter. But your eyes travelled from the barrel of the gun to the green eyes behind the mask.

You anticipated your shocked reaction before it happened and forced yourself to swallow it down. Instead of widening your eyes or gasping, you stared at the gun again and kept absolutely still. You were still breathing fast, but now out of shock from this new information. It was J. And this really _was_ one of their jobs.

“Take us to the back room.”

You swallowed and carefully left your position behind the counter. J had his gun trained on you all the while you walked. You stepped over people who lay on the ground, your legs trembling still from your earlier distress until you three finally reached the door. You turned to him and he had propped the gun against the side of Pope’s head again.

Pope slowly held the keys out towards you. You looked at J who nudged Pope again, and you snatched the keys from him. You could feel the stress overwhelm your body as you sweat, your fingers sliding over the cool metal keys. You pressed the key carefully into its lock but paused.

“Open it, _now_,” J ordered.

You hesitated and Pope immediately noticed. Your back was to them both when he shot a warning look at J. He knew J wouldn’t hurt you, but he wanted to make sure. If you were about to do something stupid, Pope would have to make a scene so that J could escape, and to keep you safe. They both watched you as you turned your head, only slightly. You weren’t looking at them fully, but your head was angled so you could speak to them.

Your voice was shaky with nerves, but you whispered, “There are cameras.”

J’s grip on the gun tightened with your words. He glanced at Pope who looked back at him. Both surprised by your reaction. J couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. What were you doing? And what was this about cameras?

Pope wet his lips; you’d figured it out. He breathed quickly as he thought about the cameras inside.

“Pope’s on parole, he can’t be seen,” you continued, your voice still a whisper.

“Shit,” Pope breathed, realizing their dilemma. J might have a mask on, but Pope did not. If they were going to exit out the back room with the safe, there was no way Pope would be unseen. Police would know that it was a Cody job if they recognized Pope’s face on the footage. And if J went in alone, he wouldn’t be able to move the safe by himself, and Pope would be stuck here with the police, still a suspect.

J finally understood what the fuck was going on and he felt the tension rise. “I’ll leave him out here.”

“No,” you whispered, “he can’t be seen, at all. The police will be here soon and there’s a fucking truck out the front blocking the only other exit, which I’m sure you know about already.”

“_Fuck_,” J cursed under his breath and swallowed hard.

Pope dropped his shoulders, defeated, “You’ll just have to do it. We’re too deep now, there’s no going back. I can hide my face with… with something, I don’t know, my—”

“_No_,” you breathed, shaking your head. You trembled with nerves, still, “No. I can turn them off at the counter.”

Pope’s eyes widened, “No. No, you can’t, you’d be helping—”

You cut him off, desperately, still in a hushed voice, “Threaten me! Yell at me to turn them off. I can tell the police that, and the others will testify to it, too, if they see it happen,” you spoke quickly, knowing you didn’t have much time left. “Fucking do it!”

J didn’t bother to hesitate; it was as good as they were going to get. He raised the gun at you and shoved Pope to the side. “Cameras, now. Turn them off,” he ordered. He pushed the gun into the back of your head as you shakily made your way back to the front counter, “Hurry the fuck up!”

You tried to ignore the fact that J stuck a fucking gun into the back of your head. You reached over the counter, half your body practically resting on-top. You found the ‘off’ switch for all security cameras in the back room and turned it off. You saw the footage cut to black and then static. You turned to J, looking him in the eyes, and nodded.

He swallowed, and even though he held the gun to your face you could see he was saying thank you with his eyes. He turned toward the back room and hurried through it, shoving Pope along with him. Pope glanced back at you, momentarily, and with his eyes, he willed you to be alright, then he disappeared after J.

They closed the door behind them and locked it from the inside before getting on with unlocking the last door and loading the safe into the van that Craig would be waiting in for them.

You fell against the counter behind you. You could be sweating blood; you were so anxious. You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and heard sirens echoing in the distance. They would be here in a matter of seconds. You could only hope the boys would escape before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t long before they contacted you.

Pope and J came back a couple of hours later to pick you up. You were sitting on the curb of a street a few blocks away from your work. There were still police around and the station had been shut down for the day, so you wandered around, waiting for them. You knew you couldn’t just go home. You knew they’d want to talk to you about what happened. You weren’t afraid, you couldn’t be. You wouldn’t be.

Pope’s black car slowed to a stop in front of you on the opposite side of the street. The window rolled down and Pope’s face appeared, sunglasses and all. He didn’t seem happy to see you, of course.

You looked up at him, your hand raised to block the sun from glaring into your eyes. You tilted your head and saw J sitting shotgun. You swallowed.

You got up from the curb and voluntarily got into the back seat. After you closed the passenger door, there was silence. An unnerving silence, it filled the entirety of the car.

You were halfway to Smurf’s when Pope suddenly asked, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, though the anxiety in your voice was as clear as day.

Pope was busy thinking hard about how to get you off the hook. He knew that evidence of you helping them get out of there would only help get you on Smurf and Baz’s good side, but he wasn’t sure that it would be enough. People outside the family weren’t trusted easily, and even though some of them have known or do know about what they do, they’ve never once been witness to it.

He clenched the steering wheel out of frustration… and fear.

You were led inside the house once Pope finally parked the car in the Codys’ driveway. They were still quiet, and it was still unnerving. But you followed them because you had to, and for some reason, you trusted Pope and J. You trusted them, but you didn’t know if that would help.

The others were in the living room, awaiting your appearance, it seemed. Baz was the only one to stand up from the couch when you three entered the room. There was a smell of freshly baked pie, but no one was eating it, everyone was staring at you.

Pope and J joined the others, and you stood in front of them all, like a witness in a trial. You could feel the tension thicken and you silently prayed that you got out of this alive.

Baz wanted to start but he wasn’t sure what to say. The family was undecided on the outcome of the situation. Never having had a witness to their crime, who was close to the family, they were confused about the plan of action.

“I heard from my boys that you helped them out,” Smurf finally said, standing up in the process. She was wearing skinny jeans, a low-cut top and a black, studded leather jacket. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shifted her weight against one foot, she tilted her head, “You spoke to the police yet?”

You swallowed, knowing that that would come up. You fought the urge to look away from her out of fear, and instead of finding comfort or reassurance in either J or Pope’s eyes, you stared at her, “Yes.”

She only blinked, her voice suddenly colder, “What did you tell them?”

“What happened,” you said, evenly. You began by feigning shock, “A guy came in with a mask on and a gun and threatened the customers and me. Everyone got on the ground, including me, but the guy took another customer hostage with his gun and ordered me to stand up. He threatened me, telling me that I had to give him the keys to the back room. I did and then he ordered me to unlock it myself. Then he told me to turn the cameras off inside the room, so I did. He took the customer with him in the backroom and must have fled through the only other exit. I don’t know what happened to his hostage, but I hope he’s okay,” you recited, exactly as you told the cops who questioned you, almost tears and all. And as quickly as you put the show on for them, you stopped, and wiped your eyes with your sleeve, quickly returning to a calmer self.

Smurf looked at you, hard. She was trying to figure you out, but she was also mildly impressed with your little show.

Baz was still distrusting of you. He looked at Smurf before asking you, “So, why did you help us?”

“What?” you questioned.

He narrowed his eyes, forcing you to flounder for an answer.

“I…” you started, looking from him to Smurf, “Why… why wouldn’t I?”

He blinked. He was expecting you to plead with him, to stumble over your words emotionally and maybe even cry. Not this. He breathed in, heavy, and then said, “Why would you?”

You swallowed, moistening the sudden dryness in your mouth, “I couldn’t let you guys just… just… the cameras—Pope,” you gestured to him as you said his name, “they would have seen his face. If they saw him, they would know, wouldn’t they? They’d know who was behind it. Plus, he’s on parole, he can’t be seen. So… I didn’t want you guys to get caught.”

“Why?” he pushed.

“I…” you stared at them dumbly, “I know you. You’re…” you closed your eyes, briefly, and sighed, then you opened them again and said, as your thoughts became clearer, “For anyone else, I wouldn’t have. But it was you guys, so I had to. I’m friends with J and… I see you guys all the time, I visit here all the time, and I hang out with you. I know you. So why would I let you get caught?”

Baz kept his eyes on you, and you found them to be less distrusting. But you weren’t sure.

“She’s a witness,” Smurf said, a threatening edge to her voice. She looked at her sons and grandson, “And she’s not a Cody.”

“Smurf—” Pope interjected.

She held up her hand, “We don’t trust outsiders.”

“She _helped _us, Smurf,” Pope argued, now standing closer by your side, “what else do you need? _Baz_ sent us in there on a whim, unprepared,” he glared at his brother as he mentioned his name, and Baz only shook his head, “And she could have let us walk into that room and get the safe with those cameras still on. She could have told the police. But she didn’t,” Pope finished.

“She’s not a part of this family—”

“_No!_” Pope shouted abruptly, now standing between you and her, facing her. He was breathing quick and hard, anger burning inside, fists clenched by his sides, “You don’t get to decide—”

“What makes you think she won’t go tell?”

Pope paused, his breathing harsh, “She won’t. I know she won’t.”

“Will you be accountable for that? Hm?” Smurf challenged with fiery eyes, “If she messes up, will you take the fall?”

You went to protest; you went to argue that you weren’t going to say anything to anyone, but Pope answered her instead.

“Yes.”

Smurf didn’t expect him to agree and you saw her hesitate. You saw her falter. She looked at you with doubt and distrust steaming in her eyes. You didn’t know it yet, but Smurf knew it all too easily: the power you had over Pope now meant he’d follow you into anything, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not going to tell. I wouldn’t,” you urged, looking into Smurf’s eyes, “I helped, so that means I’d be in just as much trouble. Besides, I don’t have a death wish.”

Pope fought the urge to shudder at your last remark. But it was true. He knew your fear of the consequences that Smurf could give was big enough and strong enough to keep your loyalty with them. He only hoped that the others saw that.

Smurf didn’t like that Pope defended you, but she could see that you weren’t stupid. She could see that you understood how this worked. She could see that you’d rather lie for them than face the wrath that she would give you, and that was satisfactory enough, for now.

“Fine,” she said.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders, and you fought the urge to sigh out of relief. Pope felt it too, the tension from her dissipate, and he felt better knowing that you passed their judgment.

Baz nodded. He glanced at Smurf before looking to you again, “Thank you, by the way, for what you did. It really saved us. It saved Pope.” Baz knew you had a soft spot for his brother, and he was thankful that you did, otherwise they might have been spending their night in a jail cell, and worse.

Pope glared at his brother. He wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. If it weren’t for his obsession with this job and the desire to continue it despite the many issues put in place, then you wouldn’t have been in this mess and Smurf wouldn’t have wanted your head on a plate.

And as for Deran, who was supposed to scope out the place and find out where the cameras were…

“Pie’s still warm,” Smurf declared, cutting into it. She wasn’t bitter but she was reserved. She served up the plates of pie for her sons and, reluctantly, for you too.

Pope didn’t pick up his slice, however. He stood off in the corner of the living room and ignored the others as they grabbed theirs.

You stood by his side, as he did when Smurf disputed you in front of the others.

“Pope?” you whispered, unsure.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw against his frustration with his brothers. Today was a shitshow but they all decided to only grill you for it like it was your fault. But it wasn’t. He turned to look at them, ignoring your voice. He walked past you and bordered the kitchen area where the others ate their dessert. He watched them, displeased.

Baz noticed his brother’s discomfort and he stopped eating, “What?”

He waited a moment, the tension back in his shoulders, tightening the muscles there, “I think it’s unfair that Smurf doesn’t even _consider _the fact that we could have pulled ourselves out of the job before any of this happened. Except _you_,” he narrowed his eyes at Baz, “decided to go through with it –and what, put _J, _out of all people, in control of the hostage situation?”

Baz put his plate down, “Pope, I compromised. You have to do that sometimes—”

“No,” Pope interrupted, shaking his head. “Not when you put us all at risk. And Y/N, too, you put her in danger, you put her in this situation in the first place.”

“The job was worth the risk. Didn’t you see what we pulled?” Baz’s eyes flashed and he stopped himself from divulging the exact amount of money they took. It was a lot, though, because of the drug trade that passed through that safe. Which you would have no clue about.

“It doesn’t matter!” Pope shouted, his fist slamming into the steel island table. Smurf jumped at his aggression and took a nervous step back. Baz was used to his brother’s outbursts, but J was still new to it; he looked at his uncle with uneasiness.

Pope pointed a finger at Baz, “The place was supposed to have been checked out, thoroughly. Yet, none of you knew Y/N even worked there and that there were _security cameras!_ That’s the first thing we look for—”

Deran shook his head and practically threw his empty plate into the sink, “How the fuck was I supposed to know that she worked there, huh? I went in, I did my job, she wasn’t _there_. I slipped the camera under the door and I didn’t see any fucking security cameras, okay, what was I supposed to—”

“Do your fucking job,” Pope muttered.

You couldn’t take their arguing. You didn’t want to be the cause of it. You stepped in, forcing yourself to speak up, “I’m sorry, I should have said that I got a job or… I don’t know, I should have told J—”

“Not your fault,” Pope growled, turning his head briefly. You got the message to back off. This clearly wasn’t your fight, nor your problem, so you took a step down and kept to the living room.

“Look, what do you want me to say?” Deran started, eying Pope, “That I messed up? That all this shit is my fault, huh?”

Craig interrupted him, “Deran—”

“No,” Deran argued, glaring at Craig momentarily, “He wants to put the blame on someone, so it’s gotta be me.” He breathed out harshly through his nose, “Fine, Pope. I fucked up. I should have gone to the store routinely but I didn’t,” he paused, and glanced at you before looking back at Pope again, “But thanks to Y/N, you and J were able to get the hell out of there _with _the money.”

Pope shook his head, obviously not completely satisfied with his response.

“Deran’s right,” Craig added, “Yeah, it was a rocky start, but you guys were able to get out of there with a butt-load of cash and stuff, without being seen on camera, and with the help of a trusted insider, so I’d say it was a win.”

Pope’s lips tightened in a grimace, he shook his head, and he took off from the kitchen, to what seemed like his bedroom down the hall, like a child sent to his room for doing something wrong. You watched as he disappeared and stared after him.

“Well,” Deran said, voice rough, obviously only just refraining from completely storming out, “I’m off.”

A thought suddenly struck you. You followed Deran as he left the kitchen, headed towards the front door, and stopped him before he left, “Hey, wait.”

He stopped and turned, his gaze was nothing but pissed off. He looked as if he was sizing you up, ready for some kind of fight. He didn’t bother to ask what you wanted and instead, with his eyes, waited for your response.

You swallowed, “I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for—”

He shook his head, “Don’t be. It wasn’t… Pope gets a little too excited sometimes, he’ll probably cool off sooner or later,” he paused and hesitated to continue on, “Look…” he licked his lips nervously, his eyes darted behind you briefly, “When Pope gives a shit, he gives a shit, you know?” he looked at you almost curiously… but also something else, maybe a warning. He shied away from your stare, as if he said too much, and nodded a goodbye.

You stared after him as he left the Codys’ through the front door and thought about what he said. It struck a chord with you. Pope rarely ever talked with you about how he was going or feeling, about what your connection meant, or even talked at all, period. To hear reassurance that Pope cared, or “gave a shit”, about you from Deran…

You left the front entryway mid-thought and when you came back into the living room and kitchen, everyone had left. Baz probably had to get on home to Cath and Lena, and you guessed everyone had enough of the arguing. You passed through the living area to get to the opposite hallway, where Pope’s bedroom was. You neared it with caution, remembering the night you first met the Codys and having almost gone into his bedroom instead of the bathroom.

You paused at the door and breathed. You couldn’t hear anything inside. You knocked gently on the wooden door and it opened ajar, only slightly. You heard the mattress of the bed creak with the shift in weight, and heard footsteps approach the door. It was pulled opened and your eyes found Pope’s, dark and sad in the evening air.

“Hey,” you said, quietly.

He blinked, but opened his door wider to let you in, and turned towards the bed again. You took that as a good sign.

Pope’s room was bare, and he didn’t seem to own many personal items other than the necessities. You weren’t really surprised by that fact. It didn’t take you long to work out that Pope behaved differently to his brothers, and it didn’t take you long to find out that he had spent 3 years in prison before meeting you.

Pope had told you one afternoon while you were choosing a movie to watch, waiting for Nicky and J to get back. He had sat himself down next to you on the couch in silence, and you originally thought he was going to ask if he could watch the movie too, but then he opened his mouth and in a worried rush, admitted it to you like a dirty secret. You remembered that you were surprised, finding out something like that does change your perspective on things, but it also made a lot of sense and essentially, it only helped you understand the guy more. You had thanked him for telling you and said that you were glad he got out when he did and left it at that. You didn’t look at him when you said that because you were a little embarrassed, being so honest, but you felt his eyes linger on you for some time after.

So, to see that his room owned minimal accessories only reminded you of the fact that he hadn’t been out long.

You took a seat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, sitting beside you, in silence.

“Thanks…” you started, staring at your hands in your lap, “for giving a shit.”

He shifted his gaze to look at you. You felt his eyes on your face, but you couldn’t meet them. A minute passed, that seemed to stretch inevitably, and then he said, “Even though… I didn’t like that you got involved today… thanks. For the help. I… I mean that.” He wanted to tell you that you saved him from going back to a hell he had tried so hard to escape but the words wouldn’t come, and he knew he’d never be able to explain it that well.

You finally looked at him and he immediately turned away, unable to make eye contact with you long enough. He was nervous around you, he knew that much, and he didn’t quite understand it yet, but when you looked at him like that his stomach did backflips and his palms sweat. He could feel his heart thump inside his chest and he suddenly felt as though he were fifteen years old again.

It was the only thing you thought you could do in the moment, so you did it. You wrapped your arms around the guy and hugged him from the side, squeezing him tight against you. He didn’t protest but he didn’t move, didn’t blink. You weren’t sure if he was comfortable with it, not until he hesitantly placed his arms around you, too.

You sat like that together in the comfortable silence that you’ve come to know well when with Pope, embraced. The feeling of his muscular arms around you gave you an odd sense of reassurance, and the smell of Pope, another thing you’ve grown accustomed to since getting to know him more and more, was prominent because of how close you were to him. And you liked it.

Pope liked that you were close to him. He liked the feel of you wrapped up in his arms. He liked the smell of your shampoo and perfume, the smells that often came with you when you visited. He could feel his heart quicken from your touch and an irreplaceable hunger for you, that he so often tried to keep buried deep down. He knew he shouldn’t dwell on the feelings he got when you were around, but he couldn’t help himself. You were his, at this moment, you were in his arms and that was all that mattered to him.

“Pope?” you asked, leaning back from the embrace. Your breath almost hitched in your throat when you noticed how close your face was to him.

He stared down at you, noticing the same exact thing.

“I don’t…” you started, swallowing, and your arms left his shoulders as you straightened yourself up properly, the mattress creaking with your movement, “I don’t really wanna go home yet.”

He watched you in silence, he wasn’t sure if he understood you right.

You blushed, “I mean, I’d like to hang out a bit more here if that’s okay. Like, watch a movie or something… After today, I just don’t really feel like being alone at home.”

Pope shifted under your stare and bit the inside of his cheek, purging those thoughts from his mind, suddenly embarrassed they ever wandered in. He nodded, though, and said offhandedly, “Sure, yeah, we can watch a movie.”

You followed him into the living room where the meeting before just occurred and you thought about what might’ve happened if things hadn’t gone the way they did, and you shivered.

Pope noticed and held a blanket up for you, which despite having shivered over darker thoughts, you accepted it anyway, it was a comfort more than just extra warmth. You sat down next to him on the couch, even though there was a lot of seating room, but you assumed he wouldn’t mind since you just hugged a little longer than usual, and he didn’t complain.

“What movie were you thinking of?” he asked, staring up at the TV screen.

You didn’t answer him and instead, curled up beside him, your arm touching his arm. You felt it, then, a jolt of excitement rush through you. And though you often wondered about Pope sometimes, when you were alone and in need of comfort, you never really understood what it was that you wanted. But at that moment, you felt it there, and you wondered if he had felt it too. You smiled up at him, wrapping the blanket over the both of you, throwing him off balance as he met your eyes, and you said, “Anything.”


End file.
